


your touch, my comfort, and my lullaby

by solaangee



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst, Body Image, Character Study, Chubby Andrew, Comfort Eating, Fluff, Food, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Retirement, Weight Gain, bc there is one mention of drake, excessive use of the word soft and its variations, if ur worried this is like kink stuff don’t worry it’s really Not, im just a body positivity and diversity enthusiast, its very soft, just a bit? maybe?, kind of?, let these boys be soft ok!!! that’s all i ask, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 17:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16769827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solaangee/pseuds/solaangee
Summary: Andrew loved sweets. He always had. He loved them because they made him feel good, even if only temporarily, and because they tasted damn good. The fact that his sugar consumption pissed off Kevin was an added bonus. And the fact that Neil happily fed him chocolates when they were feeling uncharacteristically romantic? That was an even bigger plus.





	your touch, my comfort, and my lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! this is my first fic! im a bit nervous, pls be kind uwu. i’ve read fic for years and years and i’ve always been too nervous to post my own, but i wrote this in one sitting and kinda? liked it? so i thought why not post it! 
> 
> i’m a firm believer in chubby andrew, and i was just feeling it in this chili’s tonight and this poured from my head. if discussion of eating, weight gain and diet makes u uncomfy i wouldn’t recommend this fic. once again, this is Not a kink fic. it’s quite wholesome lmao. 
> 
> title is from ease by troye sivan (icon)

Andrew loved sweets. He always had. He loved them because they made him feel good, even if only temporarily, and because they tasted damn good. The fact that his sugar consumption pissed off Kevin was an added bonus. And the fact that Neil happily fed him chocolates when they were feeling uncharacteristically romantic. That was an even bigger plus. 

He’d always been particularly fond of chocolate. When he was still being shuffled around the foster system, he’d hide chocolate bars in whatever shitty home he ended up in, and he’d ration them. Whenever he felt like he needed to cry or scream or disappear, he’d have a square and feel slightly better. Slightly. And ever since then, chocolate had always meant happiness of some kind to Andrew. Perhaps even safety. Maybe that was silly, but he was getting better at accepting his feelings, no matter how trivial they seemed. 

Andrew only truly discovered the comforts of junk food and the capacity of his sweet tooth when he and Aaron moved in with Nicky. Things were inevitably strained between him and Aaron, and there was always a palpable tension throughout the house. Andrew was falling apart, and of course he tried not to let it show. He always tried to feel as little as possible, it was easier that way, to put on a mask of cold apathy. He supposed his diet was a way to see through that, for those who looked hard enough, because food was a comfort. He was eating a lot of chocolate. He knew Aaron found his diet atrocious, but that Nicky didn’t care what he ate as long as Andrew was happy. Hm. Not quite happy. Satisfied, maybe. He savored his chocolate, pastries, and ice cream (he loved when Nicky brought him sundaes from Sweetie’s, though he’d never say). Exercise was almost a foreign concept, save for his high school exy team, for which he put in the bare minimum (and still managed to be the best goalie in the league). All of that extra sugar had to go somewhere, though and it made itself known on his body. He had always been thin, a little on the stocky side, but skinny and malnourished from his time in the system. That had changed, and by the end of high school, he was soft all over. Not fat, just a little chubby; with a pudgy stomach and thighs, and a smattering of stretch marks on his hips. 

Then those assholes attacked Nicky. They got what they deserved. 

The meds were weird at first. They fucked with his system. He could barely stomach food on some days, and when he could he craved odd things, in high quantities. When they settled in his system and started to work, he was manic. He was manic, and it felt like his mind was racing out of his control. His appetite was insatiable. The side effects of the meds listed _‘weight gain and/or weight loss’_ and it was clear which of those would affect Andrew the most. He gained weight. It distantly registered in his drugged up haze, the changes in his body, but the Andrew underneath the manic grin saw it too. It was strange. Not bad, just strange. He’d always been aware of his body, hyperaware really, and he’d felt incredibly fragile and weak when he’d been thin. Breakable. Drake had found him _’pretty, so pretty’_. Maybe some extra weight was a good thing. 

When they signed on to the Foxes, Wymack and Kevin told him he’d need to work on strengthening his body and losing weight. They knew he could play, he was one of the best goalies they’d ever seen, but they absolutely needed him to be in good shape to do so. The idea that they needed his body to be a certain way, that it was out of his control, left a bitter taste in his mouth. But he trained and he worked out, apathetically (well, perhaps a bit spitefully) until his arms were toned and muscular and his legs were strong. The softness was all but gone, and he’d lost most of the weight he put on in high school. He noted that there was still a persistent layer of pudge on his stomach and hips, though. It’d probably stay, too, since he’d decided he’d still eat whatever he wanted, ‘meal plan’ his ass. A week before practice began, Andrew had laughed maniacally at the look of horror on Kevin’s face when he’d walked in on him eating ice cream straight from the container.

The first year with the Foxes was nothing to him in the long run. He was drugged to the gills. He didn’t care for anyone on the team. He was focused on protecting Kevin and Aaron and that was it. Exy meant nothing to him, either, no matter how hard Kevin tried to get him to change his mind. Andrew’s group made a reputation for themselves amongst the Foxes. He made a reputation for himself. He was a _‘monster’_ , and a _’sociopath’_. He didn’t care enough to correct them, and they weren’t wrong, not really.

Then came one of the strangest years of Andrew’s life (which was really saying something, he thought wryly). It was strange, looking back on Neil’s first year with the Foxes. So much had happened in so little time. So much terror and trauma and yet incredibly, incomprehensibly, so much good. Good in the form of Neil Josten. As much as Andrew tried to lie to himself that Neil meant nothing, he knew now that that could never be true. Now, Neil was everything. He was an enigma of auburn hair, scars, piercing blue eyes, and a fierce tongue. Of careful yes’s and no’s, of safety. Neil, who was completely devoted to Andrew, who somehow loved Andrew. Neil.

Good also came in the form of sobriety. Those meds were never the right ones for him. He didn’t think he could completely write off medication as a viable treatment, but he wouldn’t be trying them for a long while, and he would only trust Bee with his treatment plan. 

The next few years were spent learning to navigate his relationships. Learning to find purpose, learning and accepting that he actually might have a future. For the first time, he let himself think of that possibility. He could have a future, maybe even with Neil. He could even be truly happy, one day. It was strange to think about. He even learned to appreciate Exy, and found that he actually enjoyed the game. Relished in the thrill of a good save. The first time he’d felt genuinely proud (an emotion he almost never felt) after a particularly well played match, he’d had the realization that he wouldn’t mind playing professionally after he graduated. Especially if Neil and him ended up on the same team. 

He also learned Neil’s body, and Neil his. They figured out what they liked, and what they didn’t. It was a slow process, and sometimes Andrew couldn’t bare to be touched at all, but Neil was always a reassuring presence at his side, ready to meet Andrew where he was. Once Andrew had traced every one of Neil’s scars carefully, asked if he could kiss them, kissed them when Neil said _‘yes, always yes,’_. Neil was even more careful with Andrew, he hadn’t thought he’d be anything but, though he was still grateful for it all the same. _‘Yes or no?’_ Neil’s hands had hovered next to Andrew’s face. _‘Yes.’_ Then careful, calloused hands would cup Andrew’s soft cheeks as Neil leaned in for a tender kiss. Despite his hard exterior, Andrew found he quite liked softness. He liked those soft kisses most of all. He liked when Neil hugged him, when he stroked his hair, when Neil peppered tender kisses on his soft stomach. Neil seemed to really like Andrew’s stomach. When Andrew had first taken off his shirt for Neil, he had been surprised at the softness of tummy, to see faded stretch marks on his hips. Then he’d smiled his small smile and said he liked it, that it was cute. Andrew blushed and Neil laughed. Neil kissed those stretch marks the night Andrew had let him his the scars on his wrists. 

When he graduated, Neil got him a box of his favourite chocolates. They weren’t big on gifts, and maybe chocolate wouldn’t seem like much to most, but Neil knew that Andrew would appreciate it. Not only because of his insatiable sweet tooth, but because Neil noticed that he went straight for the chocolate stash in his bedside table after a nightmare or panic attack, and that once he’d eaten some he began to breathe a bit easier. 

The future began to unfold. Andrew was recruited for quite a few pro teams, and he’d chosen one that had a good reputation, but was close to home, to Neil. Still, it was going to be hard to be so far away from him. He knew they’d make it work. And they did. 

Soon enough, Neil graduated, and they moved into a cozy apartment together. It didn’t take long for both of their careers to boom, they’d already been in the media as two of the most enigmatic Foxes. Neil had signed with another team at first, but after a year he switched onto Andrew’s. They made court with Kevin and Matt the year after that. The year after that, they adopted two rescue cats and Neil gave them ridiculous names. (Andrew loved cuddling those damn cats, even though they scratched at him way more than Neil). Their relationship was kept private, mostly because they were just private people, but they were happy. Andrew still struggled, he always would. So would Neil. But they got through it together. What had seemed like such a pipe dream had become a reality. 

Now, years later, after they’d retired from their incredible and decorated careers, Andrew transitioned into a lifestyle of relaxation quite easily. Neil remained antsy and always wanted to drag Andrew to play exy for fun, or go on runs, or go to the gym, but Andrew was perfectly content to stretch out on the couch with the cats and a book and his beloved rocky road ice cream. He’d been active for years, and they’d hardly had time for any breaks or vacations, he figured he deserved to relax. 

He spent his days binge watching Downton Abbey (Renee had recommended it), eating all of his favourite foods, and learning to bake. He was surprisingly good at it, though he preferred the eating part over the making. Soon enough, he began to gain weight again. The pudge of his stomach grew more prominent, and his thighs filled out. After a few months, he was the heaviest he’d ever been. He supposed his body matched what was on the inside; he’d certainly softened metaphorically over the years. The weight was comfortable. Neil had always appreciated the little bit of extra padding he’d had, too, so he wasn’t surprised when he’d started getting even more handsy once he’d put on a few pounds. 

One evening, Neil had come home from a run and doubled over laughing when he walked into the living room. Andrew shot him an unimpressed look. 

“You look just like Sir!” He said once he’d finally stopped laughing like an idiot. 

Sir Fat Cat McCatterson was stretched out on the couch next to Andrew. Both were in the exact same position on their stomachs. 

“Mmm, are you saying I look fat?” 

Neil cackled again. “Maybe. Mostly I’m saying you look really cute and I want to cuddle both of you,”

God. They were both such nerds. 

“You’re sweaty. Shower first, then cuddles.” 

Neil showered, Andrew stroked Sir’s fluffy white fur while he waited. King Fluffkins stalked over to them and curled up on the carpet. Once the cuddles had commenced, Neil curled around Andrew’s back, hugging his waist and pressing his face into the crook of Andrew’s neck, Neil squeezed Andrew’s stomach and huffed a breath of laughter when Andrew elbowed him in his. 

“You’re so soft,” Neil mumbled. Sir meowed from his new spot on the arm of the couch next to Andrew’s head. “And warm. I could fall asleep right here,”

“God, don’t. We’re old men now, we don’t want to break our backs, do we?”

“Mmm, definitely not,” 

“Hey. Neil.” Andrew frowned. 

“Yeah?”

“Can you believe we’re here?” Here: the future, happy, grossly in love, with grossly adorable cats. 

“Yes. Sometimes, no. But mostly yes, and I’m happy we are,”

“Me too,” Andrew smiled. Neil tightened his hold around him and kissed his cheek softly. They ended up falling asleep on the couch.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope u enjoyed!!
> 
> u can find me on tumblr @ronansslynch or on twitter @solwillms 
> 
> ily! stay awesome!


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